Signing On And Off In Greeceby Andrew McCallum Crawford

Genre:DramaSwearwords: None.Description:Brief encounters with a Greek bureaucrat._____________________________________________________________________Signing On In GreeceShe’s got my passport in front of her. She’s writing down the details on the form. Then she moves onto the box-ticking. ‘Academic Qualifications’.‘Did you finish High School?’ she says.‘Yes,’ I say.She ticks the box that says ‘High School’. I point out that there’s another box, ‘Tertiary Education’, and make sure she ticks that, too.‘Profession?’ she says.‘English Teacher,’ I say, and watch her tick another box. She suddenly looks up.‘Have you got the Proficiency?’ she says.‘Er, no,’ I say, trying not to smile. I know what’s coming next.‘How can you teach English if you haven’t got the Proficiency?’ she says.I tap my passport. She blushes slightly, and moves on to the next box.‘Do you speak any foreign languages?’ she says.‘Yes,’ I say. ‘Greek.’Her pen hovers over the paper. There’s no box for Greek. She looks at me. The manager appears at her shoulder.‘Is there some kind of problem here?’ he says.‘No,’ I say. No problem. I’m used to it by now.Signing Off In GreeceThey give you an interview when you sign off. I’m in a hurry – things to do. I wait for fifteen minutes until she’s finished with a middle-aged man getting advice about seminars.I sit down with a sigh. She’s already typing on her computer.‘Name?’ she says.I tell her.‘Address?’I tell her.‘Did you finish High School?’‘Look,’ I say. ‘We did all this four months ago. You’ve got my details.’ I look over my shoulder. ‘There’s people waiting.’She sniffs, then starts typing again, but more slowly, now and again pointing at the screen with a careful index finger. It’s quite a performance. When she’s done, she scratches something on a slip of paper and tosses it at me.She shouldn’t have done that.‘Don’t throw stuff!’ I shout, and throw the paper back at her. ‘It’s rude.’Immediate silence. Everyone’s looking. The woman’s face is reddening.The manager appears at her shoulder.‘Oh, it’s you,’ he says.I look at my watch. This is all I need. The woman is smirking.‘Here,’ the manager says to her, and hands her some money. ‘Away and get the cheese pies.’Away and get the cheese pies. I’ll remember that one.The manager lowers himself into the empty chair.‘I’ve been wanting a word with you,’ he says.‘Aye?’‘Yes,’ he says. ‘You couldn’t do some private lessons with my son, could you? Proficiency. He’s a bright kid. Failed it twice, but, you know...’I’m a bit pressed for time, but this is my kind of conversation. The woman is at the door. She turns. Our eyes meet. She pushes an arm into her coat, the ten euro note crushed in her fist.

Please tell us how much you enjoyed this story.

About the Author

Andrew McCallum Crawford was born in Grangemouth and now lives in Greece. His poetry and short fiction have appeared in Lines Review, Junk Junction, The Athens News and Ink Sweat and Tears. His first novel, Drive! – a story of 1980’s Edinburgh pub rock, attempted patricide and arson – was published last year.His blog can be found at http://www.andrewmccallumcrawford.blogspot.com/ and his novel can be purchased at this link on Amazon.co.uk.